


Captivus

by phantisma



Series: Keeper Verse [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-10
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:30:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is Dana at 16, half way to seventeen.  A dream offers the Winchesters two hunts at once, though with John suffering with a broken arm, and Sam hurting from a life time of physical abuse, it's time for Dana to step up to the plate.  When Dean's hunt goes terribly wrong, it's up to Dana and Sam to figure out why and rescue him, before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam pulled himself out of bed, muffling the groan of pain as he slipped his feet into slippers and shuffled out of the bedroom, leaving Dean asleep behind him. He wasn’t sleeping anymore and Dean needed to, so it was best to stop trying and leave the room.

In the bathroom he stopped to splash water over his face after relieving himself. Nights like this were getting more common. The aches of a lifetime weren’t placated as easily anymore. His right side, particularly the shoulder, ached most of the time, but on some nights the ache grew to pain. Pain that filled his dreams with nightmares, which in turn drove him from sleep to pace the hall or sit numbly in front of the television.

He gave brief thought to a bath, sometimes the heat was enough to ease the pain. The noise would wake Dean though, and that was all it took for Sam to decide against it. Instead, he moved slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was three in the morning according to the clock on the microwave.

He could feel Dana, restless in her sleep, dreaming. He could only hope that wasn’t an echo of the dream that had chased him out of sleep. The girl had enough on her plate this week with finals.

Coffee started, Sam went to the living room where his piles of pillows still commanded one corner of the couch. He’d spent most of the day before cocooned in them. He settled into them, closing his eyes as he eased his pained body onto the couch and rearranged pillows to suit him. He was no sooner settled than Aristotle came padding in, yawning. She looked at him with tired eyes before curling up next to him on the floor.

He drifted a little, his mind wandering over the things he needed to get done. There was the book store, and the inventory of the new items brought in after the estate of Jeremiah Watkins. He anticipated an interesting collection from the old man.

He looked up as he heard the stairs creak and Dana smiled at him apologetically. “Sorry if I woke you,” she said.

Sam shook his head. “I could say the same.”

“Nightmares?”

Sam just nodded. They shared enough that she knew which nightmares would chase him out of bed.

“Me too. Not…not yours.” She was quick to add. “Visions.”

He sat up a little. “A hunt?”

She made a face that made her look like Dean. “Not sure. It’s all jumbled up. I was going to go for a run, see if I can straighten it out.”

“It’s three in the morning.” Sam said, knowing it wasn’t an argument that would actually stop her.

“I’ll be fine.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah I know. I had to say it though.”

She smiled and he could see something in her eyes. This one was bad. “Want to tell me, before you go?”

She bit her lip. Finally she shook her head. “When I come back.”

“Okay, maybe I’ll make breakfast.”

“You should rest. Want me to bring you your pills?”

Sam nodded. “Coffee?”

A few minutes later, she was setting a large mug on the coffee table beside him, along with a bottle of pills. He didn’t like taking them. Wouldn’t until he had no choice. She usually knew before he did when that time was coming. He watched her leave and settled in, cradling the coffee mug close to him. He was stubborn, despite the pain, and let the pills sit.

He hated this weakness, this failure of his body. He wasn’t even forty. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like in his old age. He snorted. Old age. Once upon a time he hadn’t expected to live past 30.

Once upon a time he had been meant as a sacrifice, he’d been meant to die. Then, he’d still had the glamour, the one that hid the pain as much as it did the physical marks. Sam let his eyes skim over his arm. He’d grown accustomed to them after years with Dean and Dana, both of whom seemed to prefer him as he was to the neat and pretty package that came with the glamour.

It was something he hadn’t understood at first, and sometimes he still wasn’t sure he understood. “Sam?”

He looked up unexpectedly to find Dean looking down at him. “Hey. You should be asleep.”

“So should you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping, and didn’t want to wake you.”

Dean started down the stairs. “When you’re in pain, I don’t sleep either.”

“Sorry, I should keep a better cap on it.”

Dean shook his head. “Not on your life.” He came to sit by Sam’s feet, his hand resting on his knee. “I like that I can share a little of it.”

Sam moved, shifting to ease the pain in his hip, hissing as his shoulder clenched. “Have you taken any?” Dean asked, gesturing to the pills. Sam shook his head. “Sammy, you know they’ll help, at least a little.”

“I don’t like how I feel when I take them, Dean.”

“Oh, but you like how you’re feeling now?”

Sam sighed as Dean opened the bottle and doled out two of the pills. “You should take it easy today. I’ll call the bookstore.”

Sam shook his head, taking the pills and chasing them with coffee. “No, I have to go in. I have the Watkins collection to catalogue.”

“Dude, you’re the manager. Let someone else do it.”

“Its my job, Dean.”

“I’ve been thinking about that Sam.”

“About what?”

“Maybe it’s time you…stopped…working.” Dean held up his hands before Sam could start his protest. “Hear me out. The garage is doing well. We don’t need the money. It’s just…I hate seeing you like this…and knowing you push yourself.”

Sam scowled. “I think you’d better get used to seeing me like this, Dean. It’s only going to get worse as I get older.”

“That’s my point, Sam. Why not enjoy what you’ve got. While you still can. Before I have to stick your sorry ass into a nursing home.”

Sam could feel the concern wafting off his brother despite the attempt at humor and nodded tightly. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

Dean nodded, satisfied. “Okay. I’m going to go take a shower.”

 

 

Dana ran. It helped her deal with the stuff in her head; it helped her sort out what was hers and what wasn’t. She had routes that varied depending on what she needed to work out. School and friend stuff sent her through downtown, around the public elementary school and back home the back way. Sam stuff took her out past the cemetery and around the park. Dreams and powers took her longer, past the cemetery and down to the Harrington’s horse farm.

She neared the fence, and Shadow, the Harrington’s prize stallion called out to her. He ran alongside the fence with her and she let his sheer joy at the run wash over her. This was why she came here. She let herself wallow in it, pure animal instinct and happiness. She stopped thinking, stopped analyzing…and usually that was when it all started to make sense.

“See ya Shadow.” She called as she left the fence and he whinnied after her.

She had thought at first that the dream was so bad because it was mixed up with Sam’s, but that was only part of the truth. This was one of those dreams of things to come…of things that needed hunting. She’d had them for as long as she could remember, but few of them were bad like this. She could tell though that the similarities between it and some of Sam’s past had played on her memories and guilt and…and there were two. Two hunts.

Two hunts and Papa down with a broken arm….and Sam…Sam was hurting. It wasn’t good.

She was only half surprised to find Sam and her father at the kitchen table when she came in. “Let me shower.” She bolted up the stairs and into the bathroom. Her shower was quick, just enough to slick the sweat from her body. She was anxious to tell them, to convince her father it was time.

She pulled on her bathrobe and headed downstairs where her father was putting breakfast on the table. “So…dream?” Her father settled into his chair as Sam set a cup of coffee in front of her, prepared just the way she liked it.

“Yeah…it was…confusing. There’s two hunts. One looks pretty routine. Haunting, teenage girl, local high school. She died at the prom, I think.” She sipped at her coffee. “The other…is…more complicated. I don’t think…not a haunting…more like demon…or a couple of them.” She rubbed at her head. “They seem to be focused on a boy…14 or so. Tormenting him.” Her eyes slipped up to Sam’s, but he was concentrating on his plate, the wall between them fairly solid. She looked to her father instead.

She wanted him to see what she saw, without Sam between them…but she knew better. It was one of the unspoken rules of their family. The link between Sam and her father was sacred, and she didn’t interfere.

“Are they close?” her father asked and she had to shake her head to clear it.

“No. Ghost is about four hours drive north of here. Demons are about 6 hours south.” She lifted a forkful of eggs to her mouth. She had to time this carefully. Let them think about the logistics. Sam had no business on the demon hunt. Too many memories, too much pain. He had no business digging graves either.

She looked up at her father again, and when his eyes met hers she saw that he understood what she hadn’t said, that he knew what she wanted. “Can you show me the haunting?” Dean asked, and they both looked at Sam. She immediately felt the wall thin from his side, and dropped it on hers to match. His left arm snaked across the table and lay there waiting for her, even as his right hand slid into Dean’s.

Dana was careful to filter only the images of the ghost, beautiful, tragic. They passed through Sam and into her father. After she was done, she withdrew, though she left her hand in Sam’s. It only took a moment for Dean to nod. “You want this?” His eyes were bright and fierce when they met hers again and she nodded. “You ready?”

“I think so.”

Sam squinted at her and then at Dean. She could tell the connection between them was still open. It was frustrating. She knew they were talking…and she couldn’t access the conversation. It gave her some sympathy for all the years she and Sam had done that to him.

After a long silence, Sam sat back, his hand falling out of Dean’s and tucking under the table. “Yeah, okay.” Sam murmured.

“Okay what?” Dana asked.

“You and Sam are going to go take care of the haunting.” Dean held up a hand to stop the argument he saw brewing. “It’s your hunt, Dana. Sam’s just there for back up. You do the work.”

She backed off with a nod. She could do that. And it would keep Sam from going with her father. “I’ll see if Dad’s up to backing me up with some research.” Dean lifted his coffee cup. “Though if I tell him our girl’s going out on her first hunt, he may insist on following you two with his camera.”

Dana smiled, but she could tell Sam wasn’t happy. “We’ll leave after school today,” he said as he stood. “I’m going to go get ready for work.”

When he was gone up the stairs, with Aristotle bounding after him, Dean turned to his daughter. “You don’t let him do anything physical, you hear me?”

Dana nodded. “He’s hurting. I know. I’d rather he stayed home.”

“I’m not sending you out on your first hunt alone.” Dean pushed his eggs around his plate.

“It’s not like I’ve never faced the things that go bump in the night—“

“I’m not arguing the point Dana. You obviously don’t want him with me, and he won’t stay home. He goes with you.”

She nodded, accepting his logic. “So, the demons. I think there’s two, but I can’t be sure. What I got was pretty jumbled up with other stuff…memory and the haunting.”

“Show me.”

She put down her fork and looked at him. “What?”

“Before Sam comes back downstairs. I know you can.”

“But…I—Dad, are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Dana, I need to know.” He put his hand out on the table and she reached for it tentatively.

“I…I’ll try to be gentle.” Truth was, she didn’t have a lot of experience with this, the only people she was allowed this contact with were Sam and Missouri…and that had gotten comfortable from years of practice. She exhaled slowly and reached for him, surprised at the strong presence that surged almost immediately across to her.

Dana started with easier things, pictures of the three of them, of Aristotle, working slowly up to the scenes of the haunting he’d already seen and then finally the ones of the demons, and the way they were abusing the boy. When she’d played them through for him twice, she watched in amazement as he tucked them behind a wall. A wall even she would have trouble getting around without hurting him.

Dean smiled for her, though he looked a little sea sick. “Thank you.”

She nodded and took a sip of her coffee. “You okay?”

He nodded. “I see why you don’t want Sam involved.”

“Is it enough? Can you find him?”

“Yeah. I think so.” He ate some of his eggs, then looked up. “The question is, what do they want with him? I mean, why him?”

“Maybe he’s gifted, like Uncle Sam.”

“I guess I’ll find out when I meet him, won’t I?” He smiled, but she could tell he was concerned. And he should be. From what she saw, it was a bad situation. “Finish your breakfast.”

When Sam came back downstairs he’d hidden his pain a little better and he stopped to kiss the top of her head. “You ready for your test?”

She nodded. “Of course. It’s the two next week that are giving me fits.”

“Trig and physics?”

She nodded and flipped her book closed. “Beth’s been trying to help…but you know sometimes it just doesn’t stick.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Want a ride?”

“You two heading out?” Dean called from the stairs.

“Sam offered me a ride.” Dana said.

“I probably won’t be here when you get back. I’m going in to the garage, touch base with Dad, and then I’m heading out.”

“Wait, he’s not going with you?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. “He…no. He’s not. His arm is still pretty bad.”

Dana ripped a page out of her notebook. “I jotted down as many details as I could. There’ll probably be more…another vision. I’ll call if I get more.”

Dean pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. “You be careful, and listen to your Uncle.”

She smiled and nodded. “I will, Dad. Promise.”

“And you, mister…you take care of our little girl.” Sam smiled briefly before Dean kissed him. “I’ll be home no later than Tuesday…or I’ll call if it’s going to take longer.”

“Dean, I don’t like you going alone. Not against two demons.”

“I’ll be fine, Sam. I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

“Its better not to argue when he’s got that tone, Uncle Sammy. Come on.”

 

Truth was, Dana didn’t like it either. Not with what she saw. And something was nagging at her. She couldn’t place it though. And by the time Sam had dropped her at school, she had more pressing matters, namely her history final.

It was four hours of agony. Absolute agony. The test wasn’t a problem, she’d been prepared for it, and history came easily. The waiting though, was tough. Waiting and not letting on to her friends that something was up. She shouted goodbyes though when she felt Sam pull up, and fairly skipped to the car.

“Ready?”

“Shouldn’t we go home and pack?”

Sam pointed in the back seat. “Already did. Two days of clothes, and a basic kit. We’ll stop for lunch on our way out of town.”

“So, this is it?” Dana forced herself to exhale slowly and pull her nerves into calmness.

“This is it.”

 

Dean leaned against the impala and tried not to let himself worry. “You need to keep your head on your hunt, not Dana’s,” his father said, as he dropped a large book onto the passenger seat of the car.

“I know.”

“You sent Sam with her. She’s more prepared for this than you were.”

“Is she?” Dean shook his head. “Maybe I’ve been wrong trying to shelter her all these years.”

“Then this will be good for her. Give her a taste of what the real world is like.”

“Real world.” Dean shook his head. “You’ll keep an eye out?”

John nodded. “Yeah, I’ll check up on Aristotle, get her out for a run or two.”

“Sam and Dana should be home by Sunday. You call me if they aren’t.”

“And you?”

Dean shrugged. “I’ll know more when I get there.”

“Call if you decide you need me.”

“I will.”

“And be careful.”

Dean nodded and stood up, opening his door. “See you in a few days.”

He pulled away from the garage and headed south, toward Texas. The book beside him was one of the ones Sam had brought them, a compendium of demons, with all manner of disgusting tidbits of information regarding the various sorts of them and their mating habits, feeding preferences and rituals for summoning and banishing them.

It was more Sam’s thing and Dad’s thing, than Dean’s…but he didn’t know much about what he was facing. It had proven useful in the past, and since Dean was going into this without backup, he figured he needed all the help he could get.

 

 

 

Sam had to admit, for Dana’s first hunt, they couldn’t have picked a better one. Just as she had predicted, it was a pretty standard haunting. A young woman died the night of her senior prom thirty years before. Every year, she made an appearance at the prom and picked out a boy who reminded her of her killer and she drove him off a cliff.

The prom was Saturday night. Dana found the grave, dug it up, salted and burned the bones and reburied the remains. He’d have told her how proud he was, if she wasn’t so damn proud of herself. They were in the local hang out pizza parlor celebrating with buffalo wings and pizza when several of the kids came in, joking about how they knew all the stories about Janice Martine were bunk. Dana beamed and Sam threw balled up napkins at her.

He saw her stiffen, saw the color drain from her face and reached for her, but she drew back, the wall between them slamming closed with a nearly physical force. “Dana?”

“Call Dad…no, don’t….you’ll distract him.” She drew a shaky breath. “He’s…I think he’s in trouble.”

“Now, or in the future?”

She shook her head, her eyes closed. “Don’t know, can’t tell.” He reached for her hand.

“Show me.”

“No.” She tried to pull away, but Sam held her wrist.

“I can help you.”

“No. It’s…We need to go. We need to go now.”

“Even if we leave right now, Dana, he’s a good ten hour drive away, at least. Tell me what you’re seeing.”

Her eyes opened, focusing on his. “We…didn’t want to upset you, Sam. We didn’t want you to know.”

“They’re abusing him…like I was abused.”

She shook her head again. “Not exactly the same, no. But….it’s close enough.”

“And now they have your father.”

“No…he’s hurt though…they’re…they’re hunting him…turned it around.” She looked down at his hand around her wrist. “You can let go now, and we need to get out of here. He’s gonna need us.”

“I promised him I wouldn’t let you go down there.” Sam said, feeling a little defeated. He hadn’t liked any of this, right from the start. “We swing by home first, check in with your Papa. See if your father’s called.”

“He’d call us.”

Sam smiled. “No, sweetie, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t want you down there anymore than you want me down there. Those things may have never happened to you, but you have the memories. They can affect you just like they do me.”

She chewed on her lip. “Okay. Home first, but only to check with Papa. Then we go find him.”

 

 

Dean tumbled down a hill he hadn’t seen coming in the dark, cursing as his ankle slammed into a rock. He wasn’t sure how this whole thing had turned around so quickly, but suddenly he’d found himself running from his intended prey.

He pulled himself onto his feet. It was almost like they knew he was coming. And the look on the boy’s face. He shivered just thinking about it. He was turned around, had no landmarks, no idea where the Impala was parked…he only knew the guy with the black eyes was still behind him. Probably herding him toward the woman with black eyes.

He’d walked into it. Spent a few hours scoping out the town, trying to get the lay of the land. He spotted the kid coming out of the drugstore, followed him while trying to not look like a total pervert following a kid.

He thought he was still following the kid when they got to the woods, but shortly after that he was aware he was being followed. Then there was the Latin and the conjuring and the man and the woman, with the kid cowering between them…and then came the cursing and the running.

Followed by the falling and tumbling. Which brought him right back to lost and now hurt. Maybe Sam had been right. Maybe coming out here alone wasn’t such a good idea.

He didn’t have time to worry about Sam and Dana as he felt something bite into him and looked down to see a tranquilizer dart sticking out of his stomach. “Shit.” He looked up at the woman’s triumphant smile as he sank to his knees and then he was falling forward onto his face in the dirt.

 

 

“Dana, it’s two in the morning. You are not calling him.”

“Sam, something’s really wrong.” Dana was really afraid. The visions kept coming, even as Sam drove them home. Visions that had her on edge. Visions that had her doubting what she’d seen in the first place.

“I know Dana, but we can’t go running in there. We need to figure out what we’re dealing with.”

Dana pushed her way into the house, shaking her head. “Dad’s in trouble. I was wrong Sam. I was wrong. Dad’s in trouble because I was wrong.”

Sam’s hand on her shoulder stopped her, turned her to face him. “It’s time to stop protecting me Dana and tell me.”

“I…think…maybe…I was set up. The kid….the kid has…powers. I keep seeing Dad falling, shot…only not. And the demons…they’re…the kid is…he’s like you…he was given to them after his parents were killed.” She shook her head and rubbed her hands over her face. “It’s not clear, still. Like…like he’s blocking me or something.”

“Is that even possible?” Sam asked, setting down their duffle.

She shrugged. “I think the original vision was a trap. I think maybe he piggy-backed the other vision….that’s why it was all jumbled. I think they wanted a psychic…but they seem perfectly happy with a hunter.”

“Wanted…for what?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, Sam. It isn’t good though. Not good at all.”

Sam took a deep breath. “Okay, you go upstairs, take a shower, try to get some sleep. I’ll see if I can get anything.”

“I can’t sleep.” Dana said, despite the yawn at the mere suggestion of sleep.

“I’m not letting you out of this house without any.” Sam responded.

She sagged, too tired really to argue. “Okay. But you should too. It’s a long drive.”

“Let me worry about me. Go on.”

Sam watched her go, waited until she was out of sight behind the bathroom door and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Dean’s number for the twentieth time since they left the pizza parlor and it rolled over to voice mail immediately. “Shit.”

He looked at the clock and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Despite telling Dana she wasn’t calling his father at this hour, Sam decided he had no choice. John’s voice was groggy, gruff when he answered. “Dad…it’s Sam. We’ve got a problem.”

“Dana?”

“No. Dean. Dana says he’s in trouble. Have you heard from him?”

“Not since he left. Where are you?”

“We just got home. Dana’s been having visions, thinks maybe the whole demon hunt was a set up.”

“I’m on my way.”

Sam nodded. “Thanks.”

An hour later, Dana was asleep…or pretending better than Sam thought she was capable of, though she was fitful, tossing and turning. Aristotle lay across the end of her bed, watching her warily. He heard the door open below him and closed her door. John looked up as Sam came to the head of the stairs.

“Hey.” Sam came down the stairs as John deposited a pile of books on the coffee table beside others Sam had already been perusing.

“I sent the compendium with Dean. But remembered I still had these.”

“Good. I pulled out some I thought might be helpful.” He pulled the leather journal out from under his arm, “And I’d just gone upstairs for this.”

John frowned at him. “I haven’t seen that since Dana was a toddler.”

Sam nodded. “I know. I didn’t think I’d ever need it again. But…” He dropped it beside the others. “I’ve got coffee on, you want some?”

“Yeah, that would be good.” John peeled his coat off and dropped it on the chair. He followed Sam into the kitchen. “So, how’d she do?”

Sam smirked. “She did great. Did her research, found the grave. Dug, salted, burned, reburied, all in about 8 hours.”

John smiled, proud Papa incarnate as Sam handed him a cup of coffee. “Good for her.”

“Yeah, as long as it doesn’t go to her head.”

John clapped him on the shoulder and Sam did his best not to wince. “Let’s see if we can find these demons.”

“Okay, so Dana showed me a little and I’ve picked up some more on my own. I’ve ruled out entire orders of demons, narrowed down our search.” Sam settled onto the couch, automatically, pulling a couple pillows in around him.

“You okay, Sam?”

Sam blinked as he looked up, then realized what John meant. “Yeah…just…long drive, you know?” He hefted a book and looked away, hoping his father would just drop it. “So, we’re only looking at demons that can possess humans, and particularly those who do so long term. From what I saw, these…people don’t just offer the demons occasional use.”

John made a face as he took a seat beside Sam. “That’s pretty hardcore.”

“Yeah…well, it takes all kinds…and they wouldn’t be the first. It probably also means the kid is pretty gifted.”

“So, what about this kid?”

Sam reached for his journal. “He’s fourteen or so…which means, there’s no chance I helped…place him, but if these are long term hosts, they may have had another before him.”

“Thus the journal.”

“Thus the journal.” Sam confirmed, flipping it open. “Though, to be honest, I’m not sure I’ll find anything.”

It was quiet as they worked through the gathered reference material, until Sam felt the rumblings of a nightmare from upstairs. It was a bad one, and she was reaching out for him even in her sleep. “Dana.” Sam squeezed the word out, pushing John to go to her as Sam dropped the wall between them and she grabbed him, the images flowing through both of them.

_Garmont, Texas. Donald and Angelica Marks. Their son, Paul. Dean. Angry, tied up, hurting._

Sam felt when John entered the room, felt Dana let go of the dream and glom onto John. Sam held it a little longer, felt Dean turn to him, felt Dean recognize his touch. _Hold on, Dean. We’re coming._

He sagged as he let go of it, falling against the pillows even as Dana and John came down the stairs. “He’s okay, Dana.” Sam said and she sniffed back tears even as she nodded.

“I know. But…not for long. They’re gonna hurt him.”

“Yes. They are.” Dana came to him, curling up on the couch, rubbing at her head. “But, I think this tells us something.”

“Yeah?” John asked, rubbing his right hand along the cast still holding his left arm.

“Yeah, but we’re going to need the compendium. We’re looking at a class of demon I haven’t dealt with much. They’re bottom feeders…they…they’re flesh eaters…though I’m not sure what kind.”

“Flesh eaters?” John asked, frowning down at him.

Sam just nodded, his arm sliding around Dana. “The way they’ve got him tied up…it’s for bleeding him.” He said it softly, but Dana tensed under his arm. “We’ll find him, honey, I promise.”

“It’s my fault, Sam. I sent him down there. I was so worried about you…I didn’t…If anything happens…”

“We’ll find him, Dana.” Sam said again, a little more forcefully, though he was convincing himself as much as he was Dana. He looked up at John. “We’ll need the Davers text, the brown one there. Maybe the Michaels too.”

John nodded. “I’ll pull together a kit. Anything special you need?”

Sam nodded. “Basic demon fighting. Holy water, blessed iron rounds. A standard exorcism should work…In my room upstairs, in the trunk, there’s a set of tools, rolled in leather. I’m going to want them.”

“Do I want to know?”

Sam shook his head. “Probably not. And a med kit. We’re gonna need a good med kit. Pain relievers, anti-biotics, bandages.” Dana curled closer into him and he tightened his hold on her. _It’s going to be okay_.

She didn’t respond, other than to pull even further behind the wall. Sam figured that was better for now. Give her some space to deal with her fear. Give him time to work a little magic of his own, get a little mobility.


	2. Chapter 2

It was nearly dawn before John came in from the car. Dana was dozing in Sam’s arms. “You’re all set. I’ll follow as soon as I can get the garage set up to run without me. I’ve already called Bill.”

Sam would argue, he knew Dean had concerns about John going down there with the arm in the state it was in, but couldn’t bring himself to. “Thank you. We’ll get set up, do some recon.” He rubbed a hand over Dana’s arm. “You ready, honey?”

She drew in a breath and stretched, nodding slowly. “Why don’t you go in and splash some water on your face, take care of everything and get Aristotle in the car. We’ll drop her off at Missouri’s.”

“You need anything else, Sam?”

“No Dad. I’ve got this. I’ll see you down there.”

“You sure you’re okay to drive?”

Sam smiled up at him, pulling a worn leather bracelet from his pocket and snapping it around his right wrist, closing his eyes as the old magic mixed with the new he’d worked a little while before in the bathroom. The glamour settled over him, banishing the scars and with it came a brief respite from the pain and fatigue. He’d pay the price later, but it would give him a good thirty-six hours without the agony he’d been in the last few days.

“I’m good.” He stood up, relishing the ease of movement. Aristotle followed Dana closely as she came out of the hall with her leash. Sam let his eyes sweep the room, hoping he wasn’t forgetting something important.

 

They had left Aristotle in Missouri’s care, and accepted bags full of food she pressed on them, and were finally on the road when Dana tapped the bracelet with one finger. 

“Haven’t seen that in a while.”

“Nope. Haven’t needed it in a while.”

“Why now?”

He sighed. He knew she could probably feel the difference, the extra something. “Small towns…people can be strange, Dana, and scars like mine make them uncomfortable. We need all the help we can get.”

“Don’t think I don’t know there’s more.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window. “If I pulled a stunt like that, Dad would ground me for a month.”

He had to agree. Dean would. “I know what I’m doing Dana.”

“I hope so.”

 

_Hold on Dean. We’re coming_.

It was Sam’s voice…though how that was possible Dean wasn’t sure. He opened his eyes slowly, knowing things weren’t good. Not good. That was an understatement.

He was hanging. Spread eagle on his stomach. Suspended by a rope harness. He took a deep breath and wiggled, testing the limits of his bondage, but he was pretty secure.

The room was fairly dark, but he thought the floor under him was moving. He closed his eyes, cursing whatever drug they’d hit him with. When he reopened them, he tried to focus on whatever was under him.

The lights came up unexpectedly and Dean flinched, squeezing his eyes shut again. “Hey, he’s awake.” 

Dean looked toward the voice, blinking in the bright overhead lights. “I don’t know what you’re playing at kid.”

“Don’t.” He held up a hand and Dean couldn’t speak. He tried, but nothing came out. Fuck. 

The two “parents” appeared then. “Go finish your homework, Paul.”

The woman was pretty, in that unholy and going to bleed you dry sort of way. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, her eyes black, her lips painted red. “Look baby, they’re almost ready.”

Dean followed her eyes to the floor beneath him and really wished he hadn’t. A half-dozen…eggs, for lack of a better name, were cocooned in a nest of blankets beneath him. The smell of sulfur filled the air as the slimy coating of one started to crack.

“Patience, my dear. If we cut him too soon, he’ll be dry too fast and we’ll have to get another…”

“Maybe the other one will come,” she said excitedly. “Imagine giving them that much power…They’re so beautiful.”

Dean was going to be sick. Especially when she squealed as the first one began to open, a tiny, red skinned claw reaching up out of the oily shell. Not good. He decided that his first assessment was the best for the occasion.

 

They pulled into Garmont at around ten on Sunday morning. Dana was asleep as they drove up to the only motel in town, but she was awake when Sam came out with a key. “Your father’s registered here, but no one’s seen him since he checked in yesterday morning.” Sam said as he got into the car. “The impala’s not here.”

“It’s….outside the drug store.” Dana said, her eyes a little glazed, unfocused. “Dad’s…not far…hidden…damn.”

“The kid’s good.” Sam said for her and she nodded. “I brought the spare keys, want to go get the car?”

She smiled. “Dad never lets me drive it.”

“You’ve got your license Dana, and I’m not walking the mile and a half to get it. Straight back though…and if you tell your father I let you drive it, I’ll tell him about the little thing with the school skipping a few weeks ago.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. “Deal.”

He dropped the keys in her hand and moved to their room. “I’ll get us set up.”

Sam moved into the room, dropping duffel bags onto the first bed and going back for the rest. When he had everything in and the door shut he exhaled slowly and sank to a seat on one of the beds. His hands were shaking as he pulled them through his hair. 

He hated to admit to Dana or his father how scared he was. These kinds of demons didn’t get gifted kids given to them. They stole them. Usually to…do things he didn’t want to think about…and if they wanted a psychic…but were happy to have Dean…

At least it narrowed down the list. Off the top of his head he could think of 4, maybe 5 kinds of demon that could be responsible. There could be more, but…the reasons they’d want a psychic or hunter weren’t pleasant no matter what kind they were.

From the ones who just liked to fuck with humans…tormenting them for no other reason than to break them…to the ones who wanted certain kinds of humans to possess…to those who wanted them for breeding.

Sam shivered. Hybrids still shook him. Of course, the worst were the Harriers…who were bred from several kinds and classes of demons…but they weren’t alone…and the ones that mixed human DNA with demon…Sam shook his head. No. They could rule those out. They usually required a human mother, not father.

What he did know was that they were planning on bleeding him. Probably slowly. The set up he saw would restrict the flow of blood. Probably designed to draw out the process…though whether that was just to cause more pain or for some other purpose, he wasn’t sure. Sam reached for the bag with the books, and opened the Davers text, skipping to the back and skimming through the index, before turning to the section on lower level demons.

He looked up when Dana knocked, then the door opened and she came in. He raised an eyebrow. “Practicing,” she said defensively.

“Just don’t get caught.”

“It beats picking locks with those little tools of yours.”

“All right, Ms. Smarty Pants. Why don’t you figure out which room is your father’s, and practice on his door? Maybe he left the compendium in there.”

“Really?”

Sam put the book down and looked at her. “This is the real thing, Dana. Not training, not practice. This is the real world, where you have to make decisions about when and how to use your gifts. This is what we’ve trained you for. It’s now or never.”

She nodded. “Okay. I’ll be back.”

 

Dana knew she could handle something this simple. It was a matter of sniffing out her father’s…essence. That something that lingers over items, marks them as belonging. Psychic ownership. It was a forty room motel though…and she didn’t want to look like she was casing the joint looking for a room to break into.

Which was exactly what she was doing.

She walked slowly along the bottom floor of the block their room was in. Five rooms down. Nothing. Around the back, another five rooms. She could feel Sam. She was directly opposite their room. He was…shaking. His whole being was shaking. 

Dana exhaled and gathered herself. She had a task to do. Sam had made it clear he would handle himself. She couldn’t offer him the help he needed. He knew what he was doing. She had to believe that. Because the last time she hadn’t believed it, she’d done terrible things to him.

She made it to the end of the block and looked up. The second floor, another ten rooms. Still nothing. She stopped, leaning on the balcony railing, gazing out into the woods. Like she was just a tourist, trying to get a feel for things…see the sights. Nothing to be suspicious about. 

She was half way down the other block of rooms when she felt it. Like a tremor…a glimmer of her father…not really him…she stopped beside room 24, resting her palm on the door. She needed to be sure, not just go barging in.

That was when she felt it.

Right room. But she wasn’t getting into it. Not easily. She could unlock the door, but there was something else…and she couldn’t tell if it was something he did, or someone else. She chewed on her lower lip and tried to feel her way around it.

It was good. Not perfect. She could get through it eventually. 

But it would mean lingering there, in front of a room that wasn’t hers. She turned her back to the door, pressing both hands against it, her eyes skipping over the parking lot, falling on the impala.

The energy of it tingled on her palms. It felt vaguely familiar. Like….The door to their room opened and Sam was there, looking at her. She stepped away from the door immediately. He was pale and she could see from across the parking lot he’d found something.

She jogged to him and he pulled her inside. “What were you doing?”

She frowned at him. “He’s got some…psychic lock on the door.”

“I could feel you, even with the wall up. Fuck, half the town probably felt it.”

Dana shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean. I was just searching out the boundaries…so I could get through it.”

“Your father couldn’t do that Dana. He knows some simple spell work…but nothing like that.”

She blinked at him…but of course he was right. She bit her lip. “Fuck.” She blushed red. She’d blundered. Again. The trap had been meant for her. Maybe not her specifically, but they wanted a psychic…and she’d sent her father. Then they marked his door…content to use him, but happier still to get the one who’d sent him.

“I just let them know I was here, didn’t I?”

“Don’t worry about it. It isn’t your fault.”

“Yes. Yes it is. I didn’t think. Again. Fuck.”

“Calm down Dana. We’ll be fine.”

“I should _know_ better.”

He raised both eyebrows as she crossed her arms. “So…are you going to stand there and pout about it, or get with the helping?” He held up the Michaels text and she rolled her eyes before reaching for it.

“Don’t suppose it would help to try to find the text of the compendium online?” Dana asked a few minutes later, looking up from her spot on the floor between the beds.

Sam frowned. “I doubt it. Magical and demonic texts are notorious for being archaic. I’d be surprised if anyone would be willing to put anything like that out where anyone could stumble across it. We’re not even supposed to know it exists.”

“No? Then why did Papa have it, instead of keeping it in the trunk?”

“Because, he needed it for something, and no one knows we have it…and stop asking silly questions and read.”

He had that annoyed tone. The one he got when she asked too many questions or pushed too deeply into private territory. She put the weighty book on the floor and got up to get her laptop. 

Sam watched for a few minutes as she got settled on the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Trust me.” Dana said, her tongue sticking through her lips as she finessed her way onto some errant wireless network. 

His cell phone rang before she stopped typing and he flipped it open after seeing it was his father. “Hey…no, we’re here. The Forty-Acres Motel, on Main.” 

He closed the phone and looked back at Dana who was squinting at her screen. “That was Dad. He’s about twenty minutes away. He’s gonna bring lunch.”

She nodded distractedly, flipping open the Michaels with one hand while she scrolled down whatever was on the screen with the other. He’d seen that look before. She was on to something. 

 

Dean wiggled his fingers and his toes, just to make sure they were still working. His ankle twinged, and it almost felt like he might have broken it, but in his current position, he couldn’t see it.

Daylight filtered into the room, which he could now see was some sort of shed or work space. The floor was cement, what he could see of it under the bloody, slimy mess below him.

All of the eggs were hatched, six…monstrous spawn had climbed from their grotesque shells of soft tissue and slime. The proud parents had poked him with…something, six pronged and deadly…and blood had spurted out of his chest onto the disgusting creatures, the woman squealing with glee as they reached up with open mouths and he was lowered so that the blood flowed into them.

He’d passed out to the sound of her cooing to her babies and the feeling of a hand passing over the wounds. He was a good four feet off the ground again as he came to…out of reach of the little bastards.

He had his voice back, judging by the noises he’d made as he woke. Not that he figured he’d get to use it much. At least he knew what they wanted him for now. He got the dubious honor of being their fucking wet nurse.

And the kid, Paul. He was certainly abused, but not in any hurry to escape. He was powerful. Not like Dana, but that would come with time. He’d learned a lot about these things in 16 years with Dana and Sam.

Dana and Sam. Who were probably looking for him. Dean wiggled around in the demonic hammock and tried to get free. He was so intent on his exploration of the knots and ropes that he didn’t hear the door open.

“You’re wasting your time.” Paul said.

Dean looked at him, his eyes snapping over his dusty blond hair, freckles. “I know a thing or two about knots, kid.” Dean said, turning his attention back to his left hand.

“Maybe. But it’s still a waste of time. Those aren’t regular knots…and you’re a pretty regular guy…for all that you are a hunter.”

“What would you know?”

“My daddy was a hunter.” Paul moved further into the shed, cocking his head as he watched Dean struggle. “Who is she?”

“She who?”

“The one who sent you? The one who was dreaming about the ghost?”

“Like I’m telling you.” Dean pressed his face into the rope running under his head, feeling it scrape across stubbly cheeks, burning. 

“She felt like you…so she’s related…sister, maybe?” Paul moved still closer. “Younger though. Angie says I had a kid sister, but I don’t remember.”

“Yeah?” Dean looked at him. It was hard to be angry with him. There was just too much that reminded him of Sam. The Sam he met in Palo Alto. Trying to exert his independence, yet blindly loyal to the only thing he knew. “How’d you end up here?”

“My daddy sent me away. Found out I had these powers. Called me a freak. Donnie found me.”

“Nice. You realize they’re demons, right?”

Paul shrugged. “They’re good to me.”

Dean squeezed out a laugh. “If that’s what you call those bruises.”

“Boys need discipline.” Paul recited to him.

“Right. And that means beatings.”

“Sometimes. So, sister?” He squinted at Dean and he could vaguely feel… _something_ …like just before Dana touched his mind. He consciously pulled his mind as much behind the wall Sam had helped him build as he could.

“Dana, eh? I like that. But she’s not your sister is she?”

Dean stared back at him and the kid smiled. “You’re pretty good. She must have taught you stuff. That’s cool. Maybe Angie will let me play later.”

“Oh, yeah, something to look forward to.” Dean said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You want something to look forward to?” Paul smiled, but Dean didn’t think he looked happy. “They grow fast. Feeding’s every few hours now…but as they grow, they require more. By tonight, they’ll have their teeth, and we won’t need to poke you…they’ll just drop you down so that you’re in reach. They’ll eat the flesh off your bones, little by little. Last time I had to keep silencing the guy. He screamed like a girl. Then he wasn’t even enough, they lost like half the litter because he wasn’t strong enough. If you’re lucky, you’ll be dead before they get to your organs.”

“Thanks, that’s…very helpful.” Dean managed to keep his voice even, with a touch of humor still in it.

“So…I came down because it’s my job to keep you fed and shit. You don’t get much, but I got protein shakes. It’s less messy than trying to actually feed you anything. I’ve got chocolate and vanilla. Which do you want?”

Dean stared at him, incredulous. “What?”

“They both taste like shit, but you know…last meals and all? You should get a choice.”

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. “Surprise me.” 

“Okay. I’ll be back.”

And just like that, he was alone again, staring at the place where the boy had been standing. 

 

Sam felt it first, an odd questing feeling that he didn’t recognize at first. _Dana_. Just like that. Her name, floating in that space that wasn’t dream and wasn’t awake.

Her head snapped up, and he reached for her mentally. She latched onto him almost automatically, and together they erected a barrier of sorts. _What was that?_

Sam looked at his father, who was watching them, realizing something was going on. _Don’t know._

“Sam?”

“Hang on a sec. We’re trying to—“

_I know you can hear me Dana._

“Shit.” Sam sat up, strengthening the barrier, even as he pulled his father inside it, both physically dragging him closer and mentally, extending the wall around him. “Dana, look at me. Don’t listen to it.”

Her green eyes were wide when they met his. “It’s him,” she said, letting him take her hand. “He found me.”

“Him?”

Sam nodded. “The one who gave Dana the vision that brought Dean down here.”

_We have him Dana. He’s already bled for us_

Dana blanched white as an image of Dean came, trussed up in some harness and bleeding, his face contorted in pain.

_I can give him back to you._

“Dana, honey, don’t listen.” Sam said, dragging her eyes back to his. “He’s trying to trick you.”

“Sam…Dad.” Her voice was anguished and he squeezed her hand. 

“I know, baby, I know. Hold on.” He flipped up something of the wall between them and blasted mentally at the kid, pushing him away almost violently.

Dana sagged back against the dresser and nodded weakly.

“What was that?” John asked, moving back to the bed. 

“I…encouraged him to go bug someone else.” Sam said. 

“I don’t like this kid.”

Sam looked at him and nodded, but it wasn’t that easy for him. “He’s definitely wherever Dean is…or has been recently.”

Dana picked herself up shakily. “I…I’ll be back in a minute. I think…maybe…I found something.”

Sam pulled one hand through his hair and paced. “Shit. This kid is good, Dad. Good.”

"How good?"

“Not better than Dana, I don't think. Maybe a match for me. But he’s cocky. He’s never met someone like himself before. Not someone who can defend themselves.” Sam turned and exhaled slowly. “He’s…just a kid. If…if they raised him…like I was raised, he probably is only barely conscious that what he’s doing is wrong.”

“You haven’t even met the kid and you’re making excuses for him?” John asked.

Sam shook his head. “No…not excuses. I just. I used to be that kid.”

John stood and came to where Sam stood near the door. “No. Sam. By the time you were his age, you were a victim…you’d been…”

“And we don’t know that he hasn’t been. I doubt low level demons like these two have access to Harriers…but it doesn’t have to be Harriers to be bad.”

Sam pushed away memories of exactly what he’d been at fourteen…of what he let himself become. Dwelling on that wouldn’t help him, or Dean. 

Dana came out of the bathroom, still looking pale. “So…I…did some searching…and I came up with two probable culprits. Both of them are…bad.”

She picked up her laptop and put it on the bed. “The give away is the harness. I wasn’t sure before…but now…” She shook her head and Sam felt her push her fear into a corner to be dealt with later. “It’s called a feeding hammock.” She clicked a picture and an image filled the screen. “You can see why.”

A middle aged man was suspended in the harness, arms and legs spread, rope conforming to his body on all sides, holding him naked and helpless over a…nest…of what might to an untrained eye, look like baby birds…big damn birds…but Sam knew better.

“Carrion demons?” How the hell had they gotten loose?

“Sam?”

He shook his head and paced away. “I said bottom feeders, but this? Generally, they’re…harvesters. They’re kept on leashes by higher order demons. They eat flesh…usually of the soul their harvesting.”

The thought of Dean in the hands of…”They’re part of the cocktail that Harriers come from. They’re mean and nasty and the most vile hell spawn capable of taking a human host.”

Dana flipped the screen. “Two kinds I found. Not sure what the differences are, other than how they spawn.”

“What does this mean, for Dean?” John asked, his eyes flipping between Sam and Dana.

“Both have a gestational period of eight weeks, after which the one lays eggs and the other gives birth. Both have between 2 and 12…babies.” Dana mouthed the word like it was distasteful. “The eggs lay for another three weeks, then start hatching. When they’re out…they need blood for the first seventy two hours, then a mixture of blood and flesh.”

 

“He’s a strong one, baby. He’s going to make our babies grow up big and happy.” 

Dean’s eyes rolled toward her. The kid had put the whammy on him when he couldn’t help but yell as six little mouths bit into him. Not that he would have known what to say. She squatted in front of him, cooing at the monsters sucking blood out of him.

“Paul says the other one is here. That she’s quite powerful.” 

Her eyes glittered as she stood and moved back to the man. “We could have more…by the time Gonle finds us, we’ll have an army. They won’t be able to make us go back.”

“Gonle isn’t finding us anytime soon, darling. We made sure of that when we found Paul.”

“Yes, but eventually he’ll be old enough to feed a full litter. All twelve…can you imagine, darling? Two full litters brought to adulthood on the blood of power? They’ll be unstoppable.”

“And raised by us instead of some overlord, they’ll be loyal to us.” Dean watched as they kissed and groaned, even though no sound came out. “Now…let’s not let them over feed…or he’ll die before his time.”

Dean felt his body jerk upward, felt little mouths clamoring against his skin for just a little more, then the dark swooped in on him.

 

Sam sat up with a jerk. The dreams were worse than they’d been in a while, all mixed up with imaginings of Dean and what he was going through. His father was asleep beside him. Dana sat on the other bed, still awake, the laptop in her lap, tears rolling down her face. 

“Dana?”

She sniffed and looked up. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Sam got up and went to sit beside her. “Did you even try?”

She nodded miserably. “I just kept seeing him like that…all tied up.”

“And my nightmares couldn’t have helped.”

She shook her head and pointed to the computer. “So I thought I’d see what I could find out about the names we got from the dream.” She wiped tears off her face. “Donald Marks is the football coach at the school, and he teaches wood shop. His wife, Angelica, she’s the Home Ec teacher. They live just outside of town, on land that’s been in his family since the 1800s.”

Sam sighed and reached for the computer. “There’s time for that in the morning. You’ve had less than two hours of sleep in the last twenty four, and most of that was in the car. Lay down. Let me help you sleep.”

“I don’t think I can Sam.” She lay down, letting Sam tuck the blanket around her.

“I can give you something.” Sam said even more softly. “To help.”

“I’ll dream. I know I will.”

Sam sighed again, one hand caressing over her face. “Dana, you can’t help your father if you’re worn out and tired from not sleeping. It will make you sloppy. You’ll miss stuff. You’ll get hurt.”

His mind brushed over hers, feeling her turmoil, but feeling the smoothing brought about by his touch. He’d been able to do this since she was an infant, press all the right buttons to move her toward sleep, to ease her past whatever was holding her awake and bring her a certain peace. 

She resisted longer than usual, the space between them filling involuntarily with her fears, but slowly he overcame them and she drifted. When he was sure she was asleep he took the computer to the dresser, closing it before sighing again. He wasn’t sure he would sleep more either, but he went back to the bed, surprised when his father’s eyes were open. “You need someone who can do that for you.” John said softly . 

Sam smiled, but wasn’t sure he’d see it in the dark. “Usually I have Dean.” He sat on the bed his back to his father. “It isn’t always enough, but he takes the edge off.”

“I can give you something.” John said, echoing his words. 

Sam shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

He laid down, though he doubted he’d be sleeping. The spell he’d worked yesterday would be enough to keep the fatigue at bay if he didn’t, at least for a little while more. He didn’t want to think what would happen if they hadn’t found Dean by the time it wore off. He’d brought the stuff to work it one more time, but the payback was going to be hard enough with having done it only once.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to still his mind. Dean would be fine. He had to believe that. He was a strong man. He could hold on for them. And they would find them. They had the names of the people, it was a relatively small town, how hard could it be?


	3. Chapter 3

The landscape of the dream told her it wasn’t just a dream. There was a quality to the ones that were prophetic, the ones that were glimpses into other places and people…the ones that led them on hunts.

Dana recognized it immediately. She was on her bed in the motel, only not. She shifted her consciousness and sat up. The motel melted away as she stood, and she stepped forward with a confidence she didn’t quite believe. The town’s main street stretched out in front of her then faded. The high school loomed large over her.

She stepped toward it. She got to the steps and hesitated. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t some ridiculous television show, and demons don’t lay their eggs in high schools. There’s no security, no way to protect them. Too many people. She turned, and there he was. 

“You’re good, Dana.”

Dana crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “How do you know my name?”

He smiled. “The hunter…you taught him, but he’s not gifted. Not like you and me.”

She tried not to let her fear show. “You should know that if you hurt him, I will hurt you.”

“No, you won’t. You’re not like that. Even now you’re wondering how I can be saved.”

It was Dana’s turn to smile. “No, that’s Sam. He thinks like that. I just think that you’re an evil bastard who needs to be put down.”

She pushed him with a gesture and he took a step back. “Tell me where he is, and I’ll go easy on you.”

“Right. You expect me to believe that?”

Dana shrugged. “Believe what you want. You’re obviously an idiot, letting demons manipulate your gifts. You could be so much more.”

This time he pushed her, and she held her ground, though it was a struggle. “This is my dream, Paul. That gives me control.”

“So, you know my name too? Impressive.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he was smirking. “It maybe your dream, Dana, but that doesn’t make me powerless. I’ll be seeing you, huh?”

He faded and Dana sighed, willing herself out of the dream, but hands closed around her ankles and wrists, dragging her to the ground. Ropes closed over her, wrapping around her until she was bound in a harness much like the one she’d seen her father in. 

The panic was overwhelming, and she could feel the blood draining.

“Dana!” It was her father’s voice. 

“Wake up Dana.” That was her Papa. She struggled against the bindings, fought the dream. It took a long time, but she pulled a hand free and forced herself from the dream.

When she opened her eyes, Papa was sitting on the bed next to her. “Sam?” She sat up, clinging to her Papa, as her eyes sought out Sam’s. He was sitting on the other bed, his hand covered in blood. “What happened?”

Sam shook his head. “Nosebleed, I’m fine. You okay?”

She nodded. “He was in my dream. Taunting me, the fucking bastard.”

“Dana, language.”

“Sorry Papa. I’m angry.”

“I realize that.”

“He’s got Dad and he’s taunting me.” She threw the blankets off and stood up. “He’s a cocky kid though. I learned a lot.” She moved to Sam’s side, turning his head so that she could look at his nose. It was obvious it had been bleeding, though it had stopped. “Is this because of me? Or because of that?” She pointed at the leather band on his wrist.

He looked at her and shook his head. “Maybe both. I’m fine, Dana.” 

She nodded and stepped back. “Get cleaned up. I’m going to finish the research I was doing last night. Papa, would you go get coffee, and breakfast?”

Dana could feel Sam behind her, checking her and nodding to Papa before he stood and headed for the bathroom. She didn’t look up as she settled onto the bed with her laptop, content in knowing they would do what she said, because it was the right thing…because she’d stepped up to the plate. Sam was right. This was the real thing, not training, not a game. 

It was time to take the fight up a notch.

 

 

Dean groaned as the lights came on. As much as he hated the feeling of the drugs they’d hit him with when they caught him, he’d relish a little right now…something to take away the feeling of tiny mouths biting into his flesh. He’d lost a lot of blood at this point. He had no idea how long he’d hung there. Hours. Days. 

“Morning.” Paul came toward him, his “meal” in his hands. “Well, it’s closer to noon. I came earlier, but you weren’t all together here.” He came close, watching the demon spawn as they rolled around within their nest. “Hungry? You better eat. You’re not looking too good.”

“Yeah, fuck you too.” Dean grunted, turning his head and flexing his fingers.

Paul just smiled at him. “I spoke with Dana earlier. She’s quiet remarkable.”

Dean stiffened and squinted at the kid. “Oh, don’t worry. It was in her dream. They’re here, looking for you. She’s good…might make this an interesting race.” He held the cup and straw up and Dean forced himself to take the straw in his mouth and suck. The kid hadn’t been kidding when he said the damn shakes tasted like shit.

“What do you think? Can Dana find you before there isn’t enough of you left to save? Can she beat me and Angie and Donnie?”

Dean ignored him and drank the damn protein shake. He had to keep his strength up, had to stay strong. Find a way free. 

“She’s your daughter, isn’t she?” Paul asked and that got Dean’s attention. “I thought so.” He could obviously tell by Dean’s reaction that he was right. “That explains a lot. So then, who is Sam?”

Dean’s thoughts moved sluggishly, and he didn’t get the important bits pulled behind the wall fast enough. “Oh? Really?” Paul pulled the cup away. “Which is it? Brother….or…Lover? Or is it both? Are you that sick? Here I thought you were one of the good guys. Never would have pegged you as gay though.”

“Fuck you.” Dean said again.

Paul chuckled. “Yeah, you probably would. I’m way more interested in your daughter though. She’s pretty. Maybe when we catch her, Donnie will let me play with her while we wait for the eggs to hatch.”

“You lay one finger on her—“

Paul leaned in close. “It wasn’t exactly my finger I was thinking about laying on her,” he whispered. “I’ll be back in about an hour. Let you digest a little before we feed the little guys.”

 

“So, here’s what I know.”

Sam crossed his arms and watched Dana as she closed the laptop. “Donald Marks has lived here in town his whole life. He was raised on the ranch outside of town. He met and married Angela ten years ago on a vacation to Florida. Surprised everyone. They adopted Paul 4 years ago, when he was ten.”

Dana had been in full on research mode while Sam and his father attempted to get into Dean’s room and searched the Impala’s trunk space and other hidden hiding places. She had a page of notes on the family, and another on their two types of demons and signs to tell them apart.

“There isn’t much on Paul. He’s a good student, but not straight As. He keeps to himself, and is almost non-existent in the yearbook.”

“Yearbook?”

Dana shrugged. “I hacked into the high school’s system. They haven’t dumped the proofs yet.”

“When did you get so good with computers?” John asked.

She smiled a little sheepishly and blushed. “I’m not…really. But…it’s amazing how much you can get done over an internet connection with certain gifts.”

Sam smirked and shook his head. He’d half expected it, with the way she’d been concentrating when they came back in. She’d impressed him so far, and he was willing to let her continue to take the lead. “So, what’s our plan?”

Dana took a deep breath and looked at him. “As I see it, we need to find Dad. But we also need to figure out what’s possessing Donald and Angelina Marks. And, we’ll need to deal with Paul. My thinking is, Papa does the physical searching, I’ve got a list of places. Uncle Sam, I’ll give you everything I’ve got about the demons, and you figure out how we send their sorry asses back to hell. I’ll deal with Paul.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Sam asked, watching as she stood. 

“I plan to start by calling him out.” She stood and rubbed her hands over her arms. “I need you to spot me and kinda damp down the…damage.”

Sam stood and followed her to the door. “Where are we going?”

“To break into Dad’s room.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

Dana stopped and looked up at him, and for the first time he realized she was nearly as tall as Dean, that she was nearly a woman. “No, I’m not sure. But it’s what I think I should do. The compendium is in there. And, Dad’s gonna want some clothes when we find him.” She started for room 24 again. “And, I want that little boy to realize I’m not playing around.”

Sam smirked at her back and waved at his father standing in the door of their room watching. By the time he’d caught up to her, her hands were already on the door and he could feel her starting to make out the edges of the lock. “Hang on,” he murmured, laying down a dampening field around them. He knew from their earlier experience that it was going to sting when she broke through…and the echo would set even the most ungifted people on edge.

He felt the physical lock give first, an easy task for Dana even four years before. Then she set to the psychic one. It took her a minute to find her way in, but it snapped nearly in two as soon as she found it.

The reverberation slammed into him and she caught him with one hand fisted in his shirt, even as she opened the door. “Damn.” Sam rubbed at a temple and let go of the protection he’d laid down.

“Sorry. There was no gentle. The kid is strong, but not subtle.”

“He probably wanted to make sure he’d know you were here.” 

“Well, now he knows.” Dana’s eyes swept the room. Nothing looked like it had been touched. “God, he’s an idiot. He didn’t even look through Dad’s things. He hasn’t been in this room.”

“He’s not an idiot, Dana, he’s fourteen.”

“I wasn’t that dumb at fourteen.” Dana countered, moving to her father’s duffle bag. The compendium was there, in the bottom of his bag. Dana took it to the bed and dumped it, pushing aside bits of clothing to get the book. “Dude.” Dana held up a pair of boxers, old and grey and filled with holes. “What’s with the holey underwear?”

Sam chuckled. “He takes them everywhere. Says they’re lucky…or something. He’s had them forever.”

Dana shook her head. “Maybe he should have been wearing them.” She tossed them aside and held up the book. As Sam took it she shivered. 

“You okay?”

She wiped her hands on her jeans. “Yeah…that book…it feels…icky.”

Sam held it and looked at it. He frowned. “I suppose it does. I’ve gotten used to it. I forget.”

Dana shook her head and pulled the clothes back into something resembling a pile that Dean would have been proud of. Neither one of them was ever much interested in actually folding anything. She was shoving them back into the duffle bag, when she suddenly straightened and he felt her attention snap. “Oh, that was fast.” She chuckled. “Apparently I’ve made him angry.”

She slung the duffle over her shoulder. “We should get back to our room. Get you and Papa started.”

John was waiting for them, a local map laid out on the bed. Sam settled in with Dana’s notes and the compendium, while she marked out two areas on the map with a red marker from her backpack. “This is the ranch. From what I can tell from public records there’s a main house here, about a half mile in from the road. There’s a horse barn here, about a half mile in from the house and north. The cattle are to the south. It used to be a dairy operation, so there’s a milking barn at the back.”

“Used to be?”

She nodded. “Donald’s father decided there was more money in meat, so he made the switch. They still do some milking, but not commercially. I figure the big milking shed is probably a good place to look.”

“That’s a lot of acres.” John’s finger traced the outline of the property.

She sighed. “If it’s the nesting kind of demon they need someplace warm to lay the eggs. Someplace without a lot of noise and with controlled lighting. The little demons need ample darkness. That implies indoors.”

“So what’s this?” He pointed to the second space. 

“The woods. From what I could tell there are some old, abandoned buildings out there. The property used to belong to the Marks family, but Donald’s father sold it off. When I saw Dad…when he got caught, it was in the woods.”

John nodded, then gathered up the map. “Okay. I’m on recon. I’ll be in touch.”

Dana stopped him with a hand on his cast. “Look, but don’t try anything stupid, okay? Call us.”

He nodded and hugged her, then waved at Sam and headed out.

Dana turned to Sam. “You ready for me?”

Sam nodded and patted the bed beside him. “How much of what you gave him was from the internet?”

“Most of it. I got a pretty good reading on Paul when he was in my dream…and I scanned some memories of the family from some folks who were…available.” She looked like she was waiting for him to scold her.

“Okay, so give me what you’ve got, and I’ll get us some action points.” 

He dropped the wall completely and waited, watching while she sorted through what she wanted him to see and what she apparently didn’t, then she dropped her side of the wall and slid into his mind. 

It only took a moment to transfer the images and information, but she lingered a little longer, offering him a small amount of comfort while she could, then she withdrew slowly. He waited until he felt her begin to block him, then took a deep breath, triggering the rise of the wall from his side. 

“Now what?”

“I’ll be heading out to the high school.”

“The high school?” Sam crossed his arms.

“That’s where he came to me in my dream. So I figure it’s a good enough place to start.”

She reached for her cell phone and shoved it in a back pocket. 

“You be careful.”

She smiled at him. “I will. I’ll be back in an hour.”

 

Dana didn’t feel nearly as confident as she was playing for her uncle and her Papa. The truth was she was terrified for her father. Her last glimpse of him wasn’t good. He’d lost a lot of blood. Soon the damn things wouldn’t be content with blood, and she didn’t know how long it would take for him to die.

She forced that thought out of her head and kept her eyes open as she moved quickly through town. She knew she could be walking into a trap, but she also knew that Paul was a cocky SOB who would try to take her on his own to earn the praise of his demonic parents. 

They probably weren’t even aware he was missing yet. That would be the advantage she’d need. That and her ability to be cold, to act as though she didn’t care that he was just a kid…misguided and probably abused into thinking this was the right thing to do, that this life was what his gifts predisposed him to…but the truth was, she’d seen him…seen through him.

So, it was just a glimpse, and it was more a memory of something he’d said to her father, but it was something. Something she could use.

He was already there, sitting on the steps of the school. It was close to one in the afternoon and there were a few students milling about. Dana knew exactly how many, and she could tell that the demons weren’t there.

She stopped still a good ways away, watching him. He turned toward her and a smile came over his face before he stood and started coming toward her. “You’re even prettier in person.”

Dana raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “All this build up, and that’s you’re opening line?”

Paul shrugged, brushing blond hair out of his eyes. “What is it with you kids raised by demons, don’t they ever cut your hair?” Dana asked and he looked puzzled for a moment before brushing past it.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” Paul said. “I was about to give up.”

She smiled. “I’m here. Now what?”

“I thought I’d take you to your father.”

“Just like that?”

“Well, that way you get what you want, and so do I.”

She chuckled. “I’m not that naïve, Paul. I was raised by hunters. I’ve been dealing with demons and the supernatural since I was a baby.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to figure that out. If your father is gay, where did you come from?”

Dana licked her lips and cracked her neck, forcing herself to turn away from the bait. She could see genuine curiosity in his eyes and the thoughts telegraphing from him were of a hunter…someone he…”Your father’s a hunter too.”

He looked surprised. “He was. He’s dead.”

“No. He isn’t.” Dana could feel it. “He’s alive. Thinks you’re dead.”

“Stop it. I’m not listening.”

“Demons aren’t real well known for telling the truth. It shouldn’t be too surprising that they lied to you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took a few steps toward her, fists clenched. 

She shrugged. “It’s your head, I’m just reading what you know, but won’t admit to.” 

“Who is Sam?” Paul asked, trying to regain control of the conversation.

“I thought you were powerful. Why don’t you tell me?”

“Is he the one that pushed me away yesterday?”

“Maybe.” Dana crossed her arms. 

“He’s your uncle. Figured you got your gifts from your mother’s side, since your father is so normal.” The boy was starting to get nervous. He was sweating. His eyes were dark and he didn’t like the fact that she had a good 8 inches on him. 

She hadn’t planned on her advantage being physical. “Where’s my father?” She pushed at him mentally and he flinched, but held. 

“Nice try. I’m not telling you.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure we’ll find him soon. And when we do, rest assured we’ll send the demons back to hell. What you do after that is up to you.”

“You can’t—“

Dana smiled. “Can. Will. In fact, Sam is probably already there, performing the exorcism.”

“You’re lying.” He squinted up at her. “But you’re trying to keep me here.”

“Am I?” Dana stepped aside, gesturing. “Go. I’m not keeping you.”

“Right, so you can follow me? I don’t think so.”

“Okay, Paul. I’ll go first. You already know where I am. Why isn’t you haven’t told your parents?”

He moved from nervous to angry, just like that. She felt him coming, physically and mentally and slammed up a wall. He hit it full force and she staggered backward a little under the assault. “Come on Paul, people are going to see you. Do you really want that?” 

He growled in wordless rage and came at her again. _That’s it, come on_. 

His next attempt was harder, but to get the power, he had to let go of some of his self protection. She let him in, rolling to the ground underneath him and reaching into him for what she wanted. He yelled as he realized what she had done and landed a punch to her cheek before someone was pulling him up and away. She looked up, holding a hand to her cheek. A man in his fifties held Paul by the scruff of the neck. 

“Mr. Marks, you should know better than to fight on school property.”

Dana picked herself up of the ground. “Thank you. I don’t know what his problem is. We were just talking.” Stop now, Dana, she thought. Less is more when dealing with teachers. 

“I don’t know you.”

She shook her head. “No sir. My name’s Dana. I’m in town visiting my uncle.”

The teacher nodded. “Inside, Mr. Marks. I’ll be calling your father.”

Paul’s eyes went wide with fear and Dana felt him working hard to marshal it. “I suggest you head back to your uncle, young lady.”

“Yes sir, that’s a good idea.” Dana turned and walked away, barely containing her desire to run. _I know where they are. We have to move now. While Paul and his father are occupied._ she sent through to Sam as she rounded the corner and put the school behind her. As soon as she knew she was out of sight, Dana took off at a dead run, pulling her cell phone out and pressing the button for her Papa’s number.

“Papa, I know where he is. Sam and I are heading there now.” She looked both ways quickly and raced across the street and into the parking lot of the hotel. “No, I was right. There’s a back room in the milking shed. It’s small, easy to keep warm. Meet us a mile south of the main gate.”

Sam was on his feet, moving toward her as she burst in. “Papa’s going to meet us. I’ve got Paul occupied at the school. His father’s on his way.”

Sam turned her face to look at the reddening cheek bone. “What happened?”

She grinned and batted his hands away. “He got angry. Lost control. I took what I needed, and got him busted for fighting on the school grounds.”

“That’s not going to keep them long, Dana, especially not once that demon learns who he was fighting with.”

“I know, thus the hurry. We need to go.”

“Okay. Here.” He handed her a notebook with Latin scribbled out on two pages. “Exorcism. They’re Genrrol demons. Nasty fuckers. But not known for being super intelligent. I don’t know how they got free of their overlord, but there’s a first time for everything.”

He ushered her to the door and into his car. “The babies are easy enough to kill.” He tossed his rolled up tool kit in her lap. “There’s a blade in there, right size, sharp.”

She unrolled it, marveling at how there could still be things about him she didn’t really know. Somewhere in his memories was information about these tools, but she didn’t delve into those too much anymore. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. Even if those memories lived in her own head now too.

She knew instantly which blade he wanted and pulled it out. “Necks?”

He nodded. She made a face, but rolled up the rest of the tool kit and set it at her feet. “So, we have a plan?”

Sam exhaled and looked at her. “We get to your father first, kill the…babies. That should bring the mother to us.”

“How do we keep her from killing us before we exorcise her?”

“I don’t know if we’ll have time for the easiest solution, which would be a devil’s trap. We may have to go with the inelegant and knock her out, tie her down.”

Dana nodded, then looked at him. “That spell of yours is due to wear off. You going to be good for this?”

“You worry about you, Dana, let me worry about me.”

“Normally, Uncle Sam, I’d be fine with that. But…this is Dad’s life. And yours. And mine, and Papa’s. I need to know.”

Sam smiled at her, one big hand reaching over to slide over her head and pull her close enough that he could kiss her forehead. “Your father is going to be so proud of you, Dana. I touched up the spell while you were out. I’ll be fine.”

She nodded and looked away. “When we get home, I’m so telling Dad about that.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was aware that something wasn’t right. Well, more not right than it had been. The boy had come and lowered him to feed the insane little fuckers under him, but never came back. They’d given up on feeding, though not before they’d torn large chunks of flesh from his stomach and thighs. Now they were fighting and nipping at the ropes.

One of them had claws dug into his shoulder and was hanging from him, biting at its siblings below him. “Shoo demon spawn.” Dean croaked, shaking his body to try to loose him. Instead, another of them jumped up, biting at his cheek, and shrieking.

“I’m going to kill you mother fuckers. You just keep gnawing on the ropes so I can break free.”

Of course, the insanity of talking to the monsters wasn’t lost on him. He didn’t have long before he lost all sense of coherent thought, and that wasn’t a pleasant thought. He pulled on the ropes that bound his hands, but they weren’t budging, unlike the ones below his belly, which were torn and breaking beneath him. 

_Dean._

Dean shook his head, angering the one that had been licking at the blood on his cheek. He could have sworn that was Sam. In his head. But…Sam wasn’t there. Sam was…well, he didn’t really know. But Sam had never been in his head from more than a room away.

_We’re coming for you. Just a few minutes._

“Yeah, you’re losing it Winchester.”

_Dean?_

“Sam?” It really did feel like Sam, but it could be the kid playing pranks. _Sam?_

Relief flooded through him…relief that was not his. It messed with his head. _Not far now, Dean. Not far._

 

“He’s okay.” Sam breathed as Dana got out of the car. She nodded, holding the curved knife in one hand while tucking a gun in her belt with the other. John was waiting for him. “We leaving the cars here?” Sam asked and Dana nodded.

“We’re on the other side of the drive way than the school, and far enough away Paul and his father shouldn’t see them as they come home. We go over the fence and straight back.”

“Okay, let’s move.”

Sam moved over the fence on point, clutching a gun loaded with blessed iron rounds and tossing Dean’s duffle over his shoulder. His father had a smaller duffle, with holy water and salt and other necessary things. There wasn’t much cover, and they had a mile and a half. He moved to go behind a hay stack, and angled for each bit of cover, however small. They had to get there without being seen. He used his senses to scan around them as they moved, motioning Dana and his father down when some wandering ranch hand came too close for comfort. 

When he’d passed, he started forward again, grateful when they reached the cover of trees. He stopped and waited for them to catch up, casting around to make sure he knew where they were going. Dana pointed and he nodded. 

Her hand fell on his arm and he turned to look. Her eyes were glazed and distant. “There’s six of them. The woman is…already walking up from the house. She knows Paul left Dad…he was supposed to stay with him…” She handed the knife to Sam. “You go deal with the spawn and get Dad. I’ll deal with the woman. Papa, I need…” She looked up as he set a water gun in her hand. “Holy water,” she said with a smirk.

“You sure you can handle her, Dana?” Sam asked.

_I’ve handled worse._

She set out at point, leading them to the shed. “Papa will back me up and be look out.” 

Sam nodded and followed her pointing finger as John scouted the area for something heavy. “When I start cutting throats she’s gonna come a whole lot faster.” Sam said and Dana nodded. 

He didn’t like leaving her, not with his father still nursing a broken arm. But Dean was hurting. Dean needed him and he had to accept that Dana wasn’t a little girl any more. He crept through the dark back of the milking barn, away from the line of stalls and equipment. 

He felt around the door, but Dean seemed to be alone, but for the six hungry mouths. He opened the door and the stench was overwhelming. Blood and the smell of sulfur combined with human waste made him curl his nose in distaste. 

Dean didn’t seem to be conscious, but the not so little monsters were very awake, screeching and squawking as he covered the distance from the door in two huge steps, grabbing the nearest one and pulling the knife over it’s neck quickly before tossing it aside. 

He could feel the woman now, coming closer, screaming. He grabbed at another. It bit at his fingers and he cussed, cutting it quickly and throwing it aside. The fourth got a good mouth full of his arm before he killed it. The fifth was attached to Dean, biting hard into his shoulder. Dean groaned as Sam pulled it loose, tearing skin. “Fuck. Sorry Dean. Sorry.”

The woman was there, he could hear her with his ears now, then her howling changed and he knew Dana had hit her with the holy water. He had one more, and it was biting into his pant leg. Just as it hit skin, he managed to pry it loose.

The bloody part of the job done, Sam turned his attention to his brother. “Dean? Can you hear me?”

He checked his pulse. It was steady, but weak. He reached for the knots holding him inside the ropes. “Damn.” The kid had even spelled the damn knots. “Hold on Dean. Almost done.”

“Sam?” Dean turned his face toward him, and Sam blanched. His left cheek was pretty torn up.

“Yeah, Dean. Give me a sec.”

“Not going anywhere.” Dean said, a faint chuckle in his voice. 

“Yeah, I see that.”

“Dana?”

“She’s outside, dealing with a demon.”

“Go help her…I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Dean. And I’m not leaving you in this contraption. Be quiet so I can concentrate.” It took longer than it should have, because Sam kept getting distracted scanning over Dean’s injuries. When the spell finally snapped, he could feel the kid, they were nearly back to the ranch, and now the kid knew. “Fuck.”

_Dana, you might want to hurry, Paul and his father know we’re here._

He cut through the ropes at Dean’s ankles and wrists, then slowly tipped the whole hammock until Dean’s feet were on the ground. With one hand, he held Dean upright, with the other he pulled the hammock apart around him. When he was free of the rope, Sam lowered him slowly to the floor. 

There was power building in the main part of the barn, Dana’s voice raised in Latin incantation. She was nearly there. “That’s your little girl out there, Dean.” Sam said as he reached for the duffle bag and pulled out a shirt to settle over Dean’s shoulders. “She’s unbelievable. You’re going to be so proud.”

“Dana…” Dean looked up at him, his eyes cloudy, confused. “Sammy?”

Sam pressed a kiss to his lips and nodded, swallowing a sudden urge to cry. “Yeah, baby. It’s me. Let’s get you dressed. We’ll have to deal with the injuries back at the hotel.”

 

Dana stood inside a circle of salt drawn on the floor of the barn. Angelica lay within a smaller one, fuming. She was hog tied, her eyes black, her mouth spewing obscenities.

Dana ignored her and recited the Latin from the notebook pages Sam had given her. She’d never done this exactly. She’d killed demons, but never really exorcised them.

The other two were getting closer…they were at the gates. She needed to finish this. “Qui tecum vivit et regnat in unitáte Spíritus Sancti Deus, per ómnia sæcula sæculórum.”

The woman’s body seized up. Dana looked up and John’s voice was gruff. “Finish it Dana.”

“In nómine Patris, et Fílii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”

Angelica screamed, doubling up, then kicking at the confines of the circle, before her mouth opened impossibly wide and black, inky smoke came pouring out of her. It coalesced above the circle and Dana pointed at it, blasting it with a white light until it was gone.

She sagged a little and looked to her Papa. He smiled but then nodded toward the door. They were there. The car screeched to a stop on the gravel and doors opened. The man was yelling. Paul was pushing at her, but she was still protected by the circle. 

John held the shovel and waited. Donald Marks came running into the barn, stopping just short of John’s reach. He swung and stepped forward, but Donald caught the handle and pulled it free of John’s hands.

“Angie!” Paul surged forward, stopping short of the salt circle. “What have you done?”

“Sent her demon back to hell where it belongs, just like I promised.” 

The door to the back room opened and she could feel Sam and her father. He was weak, but moving his own feet, even if he was leaning heavily on Sam. _Help Papa._

She felt his response and didn’t spare a glance to see how her Papa was doing. She had her hands full with Paul. 

“If you’re so damn good, why don’t you come out here and face me?”

“Because, I’m not stupid.” Dana said. “You aren’t either, I could tell when I got inside your head. Why you ever listened to them, I’ll never know.”

“You’re a coward.” He came close to the circle, looking down at the woman who was just starting to come around. “Had to knock her out didn’t you? Tie her up before you could exorcise her.”

“Didn’t have to. It was easier. And like I said, not stupid.”

He was getting angry, his breath coming in pants. Energy crackled around him. “You don’t want to do that.” Dana said, readying her defense. 

“No? How do you know?”

“Because I know you don’t expect the results.”

_Need the exorcism._ Dana glanced aside, and Sam was literally sitting on Donald Marks, her Papa crossing to her. She held her hand out to the edge of the circle and felt him take the papers, felt Paul’s attention turn. 

“Yeah? Expect this?”

His blast ate through the air toward John, but Dana was ready, stepping neatly out of the circle and throwing her defensive wall up. The shock bounced back and slammed Paul to the ground, twitching. It would be a while before he got up again.

Her Papa’s voice lifted in beautiful Latin, and she turned her attention to where Sam had left her father. She crouched next to him. “Daddy?”

His eyes opened slowly, and the one of the ruined cheek didn’t really focus on her, but she smiled through sudden tears. “It’s okay Daddy. You’re gonna be okay.” 

She reached out a hand, resting it on the top of his head, the only immediate place she saw that wouldn’t hurt him. She scanned over his body. He was hurting. Probably need stitches in more than one place, a blood transfusion. “We’re gonna get you to a hospital, okay?” 

Dean reached slowly for her hand and she couldn’t help but notice the bloody and bruised wrists. He’d worked hard to get free. “No hospital, baby…Just want to go home.”

“You need blood, and probably more.”

“Still your father.” Dean mustered a half smile and she shook her head. 

“Always.”

The room seemed to shake, then Sam was falling backward and the air was filled with inky smoke, but before Dana could move to blast the damn thing, it sank into the earth and was gone. 

Sam was breathing hard when he came to help Dana lift Dean to his feet between them. John pointed at Paul as they got close. “What about him?”

They stopped and stared down at him. Finally Sam heaved a sigh. “We can’t leave him here. Bring him. Maybe I can get through to him…or bind his powers…or something.”

Dana looked up at him, but saw an echo of what he was thinking, so didn’t say anything. She couldn’t begrudge him trying, even if she thought it was a waste of time. She knew he was thinking about how different his life might have been if someone had done the same for him.

She didn’t remind him that he wouldn’t be a part of their lives now if that had happened. She’d just keep that to herself for now.

 

Dana sat on the bed, holding her father’s hand while John and Sam took turns cleaning and pouring holy water over his torn flesh before carefully bandaging him. John filled a syringe with antibiotic and pressed it into Dean’s arm. 

“You want something for the pain?”

Dean was only barely conscious, but he managed a nod. “Not too much Papa, he needs to eat soon. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

John nodded, filling a second syringe. “You heard the nurse, Dean. Not too much. I’ll be bringing food in a little while.”

Dana stayed there, holding his hand while he drifted toward sleep. John set aside the med kit, checked on Paul who was bound and gagged and still pretty out of it in the corner, then followed Sam outside. Sam leaned against the Impala, looking worn and concerned.

“You okay?”

Sam nodded distractedly, then looked up. “Tired. It’s been a long couple of days.”

“It’s more than that.” John knew Sam was hurting, he’d learned the signs, but he also knew his son was proud and didn’t want it to show. He tapped the leather band on Sam’s right arm. “What’s the story?”

Sam closed his eyes and sighed. “I…I’m having a bad week. The pain, nightmares…some days I can’t lift the arm at all.”

“You seem to be pretty mobile.”

“Yeah. I worked…it’s a spell. I don’t use it…I’ve only done it once or twice before. The blowback when it’s gone is seldom worth it.”

“But this time it was?”

Sam nodded. “Yes. It’ll be worse because I did it twice…but once we get home and I take the band off…” He made a face. “But we’ve got Dean, and he’s going to be okay. That’s all that matters.”

John nodded. He could accept that. “What about the boy?”

Sam shrugged and stood up. “I should get on him before I fizzle out.”

“I’m going to go get some food. And we should be on the road before long. We don’t know what the fall out will be.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll have Dana pack us up.”

Sam watched him walk away and sighed again. The kid was tough. But Sam knew he had to try. He let himself into the room. Dana was already packing things up. He went to where Paul was sitting and lowered himself to the floor. 

“Need me?” Dana asked.

“No, just keep packing. Papa wants to leave as soon as we’ve eaten.”

_Paul_.

He felt the response, even though the kid didn’t move. _I don’t want to hurt you. But I have information you need._

He reached out, both with his hands and his mind. Paul was still rather shocked, so overpowering his defenses was fairly easy. He didn’t dig though, chose not to read his memories, just laid out some of his own.

His childhood, the demons, the punishment, the beatings. Believing his father didn’t want him, that he’d been given away. The horrible things he’d done in service to those demons, the way he’d used his own brother…the forgiveness and love from both John and Dean, despite everything. Laid it down fairly thick.

He started to pull away then, but felt a pull. _Wait._

He did, watching Paul dig through the information. _My father? Dana said he was alive._

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Dana. _I don’t know. We could try to find him._

Paul was shaking. _What are you going to do to me?_

“I’m tempted to bind your powers and block your memory and hand you over to someone who knows how to handle kids like you.” Sam said aloud.

Paul’s eyes blinked. _You would do that?_

“Everyone deserves a second chance. If I got one, you deserve one.”

He felt Dana stop what she was doing and look at him, but he knew he was right. 

_What are the other options?_

Sam shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure there are other options. I’m probably going to drug you when we leave here. Deal with you after we’ve left town.”

Paul nodded. _Can I think about it?_

Sam nodded. “Yeah, you do that.”

 

Two hours later saw them on the road. Dana driving Sam’s car with the unconscious Paul in the back seat; Sam driving the Impala, with Dean drugged beyond pain in the back seat and John bringing up the rear. It was nearly dawn before they reached Lawrence. Dana sat in the driveway, kneeling on the seat looking down at Paul. “Where are we?” Paul asked, his voice small.

“Home. I’m sure Sam will deal with you soon enough.”

“What do you think I should do?”

She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know. Sam thinks you can make something of yourself. I think you liked being evil.”

“Didn’t he too?”

Dana had to think about that. In some ways, she supposed he did. “It was all he knew. You can’t say the same. You made choices to be who you are.”

She looked up. Papa was helping her father into the house and Sam was coming toward them. “No matter what happens, I’ll be watching you. And I won’t hesitate to put you down if I have to.”

Dana got out of the car and kissed Sam’s cheek. “He’s all yours.”

Sam sighed. “So. What are we to do with you?”

Paul sat up slowly. “Dana doesn’t think I can change.”

“I know. We’ve been arguing all the way home.” Sam held out a hand to help him out of the car. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fair enough. Let’s go inside, see if we can’t reach a consensus.”

Two steps into the house, Paul turned, his eyes flashing, Sam felt the first blast and staggered backward, but Dana was there, physically pulling the boy away and ripping into his mind almost viciously.

They were on the floor and Sam was staggering, reaching for her, but she was way ahead of him. She spiraled into Paul’s memory, ripping out everything back to the last time he saw his father. Sam went to his knees beside her, following her, trying to soften the edges and together they found the center of his powers and locked them down, burying that center under layers of emotion that should keep him well away from it for a long time.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” Dana whispered as they both came up and out, her hand brushing across his face. He hadn’t even realized he’d started crying. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay, baby.”

“Fred Castor. That’s his father’s name.” Dana said as she rose shakily. “We should…I don’t know…find him?”

Sam nodded. “Tomorrow. For today, let’s sedate him and put him in my room. We all need sleep.”

 

It took nearly a week to find Fred Castor, and nearly every contact in the hunter community John had. John met him first, asked about his son Paul. When he was convinced the man hadn’t sent his son away, John brought them together in a park not far from the house.

“He’s lost a lot of memory, I’m afraid.”

“Where’d you say you found him?”

“Texas, he was being held by some demons. They abused him. He’s blocked it out. Only remembers getting lost and then that we found him.”

Paul looked a little confused, but shuffled closer to his father and let him fold him in his arms. “There’s some motor issues from the brain damage.” John said, looking away from the tears leaking from the younger man’s eyes. “Doctor said he’d be fine though, a little behind the times, but okay.”

“I don’t know how to thank you. I mean, I’ve heard about you Winchesters, but…this? I don’t know what to say.”

“Just take good care of him.” John said, looking over his shoulder to where Dana leaned against his truck. “I gotta get going, my boy’s still healing from his ordeal.”

Fred nodded, then held out his hand to John. The shake was firm and manly and John smiled before walking away. “I didn’t like lying to that man.” John said.

Dana got in the truck and put a hand on his. “I know. But sometimes a lie is more comforting than the truth. I don’t like letting him walk away…but…”

“Yeah. Little else we could do.”

“We can go home though.”

“Yes, that we can do.”

 

Sam lay in the tub, water as hot as he could stand it to ease the pain in his bones. He heard a cough and looked up to find Dean sitting on the toilet. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“I’m better than you at this point.”

“I’m…sore.” Sam admitted.

“Dana told me about the spell.”

“I’m not surprised.” Sam sighed. “I love you Dean. It was worth it to get you home.”

“I’m not going to argue.”

“You’re not?” Sam sat up a little and squinted at him. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

“Funny. Don’t make me laugh, I’ll pull out stitches.”

“Sorry. You always want to argue when I hide stuff from you.”

“It made me realize a few things.”

“Like what?”

Dean grimaced, holding his stomach as he shifted. “One, you love me…probably more than is healthy for either one of us.”

Sam smirked and nodded, reaching for Dean’s hand. “Two?”

Dean was very serious. “I really want you to stop working. I want to know that you’re taking care of yourself…because when I think of you in that kind of pain…It’s like a hot iron in my gut Sam.”

Sam kissed the hand he was holding and nodded. “I’ve thought about it Dean, and…maybe you’re right. It’s not like there isn’t enough to do around here when I’m up to it, right?”

Dean grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“You just want me to be your little housewife.” Sam said, grinning too.

“Little?” Dean held up Sam’s hand. “Have you seen these hands? Nothing little about them.” He slipped something onto Sam’s hand and kissed it before letting Sam pull it away.

“What’s this?” Sam held the hand up, a silver band etched with runes winked at him from his ring finger.

“It’s a ring.” Dean looked a little sheepish. “I just realized, I’ve worn the ring you gave me all those years ago…and I’ve never given you one in return. I just want you to know how much I love you…and that I want you to be with me forever.”

Sam rose up, dripping wet and kissed Dean, hot and fierce and their minds surged together. _Love you so much_

“Ow.” Dean pulled back a little. “Easy lover boy, I’m still healing.”

“Well, maybe you should be in bed then.” Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe you should take me there.” Dean whispered, leaning in for a softer kiss.

Sam leaned behind him to pull the plug on the tub and stood, wrapping himself in a towel before helping Dean up. “You better hurry up and get well…I have a very strong need to do some very nasty things to your body.”

Dean snorted. “And since when has the health of either of our bodies stopped us from that?”

Sam helped him down onto the bed, pulling open the bathrobe and kissing over his chest until he came to the first line of stitches. “Stitches…when the stitches come out.” He flopped down on the bed next to Dean.

“Oh, you’re a cock tease.”

Sam nodded. “I learned from the best.”

“You know, I have half a mind to tie you down and lick you all over, but not let you come.” 

“Yeah…when you’re strong enough.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Dean. I’m serious.”

“Yeah?”

Sam kissed him lightly. “Yeah. Give it a week. We’ll send Dana to Dad’s. You can tie me to the bed and torment me all weekend.”

Dean shifted to look down at him. “Serious?”

“Serious.”

Dean grinned and laid down with his head on Sam’s good shoulder. “You’re on.”


	5. Epilogue

You sure about this?” he whispered, his hands glazing over Sam’s arms, stretched up and out. There was fear there, in Sam’s eyes…a faint panic as he pulled against the soft ropes Dean had used to tie his hands to the hooks in the headboard.

Sam nodded slowly, and the amount of trust this took, even after all these years, wasn’t lost on him. Dean kissed him, soft and tender, then trailed kisses down his bare chest. Sam had promised, but Dean had never expected him to follow through…especially not when the week had turned into three because aging bodies don’t bounce back from injury like youthful ones.

Dana was spending the weekend camping with Beth and other classmates, celebrating the end of their junior year…or the freedom of summer…or the progression into their senior year…or something. Dean was back to work and free of stitches or bruising. He’d carry scars, but he was whole again.

Sam was even in better shape. Dean would never consider this if he weren’t.

And Dean had considered this. Ever since Sam had said the words.

You’re thinking too much.

Dean smiled against the skin of Sam’s stomach and looked up at him. “I’m going to go slow. I already told you that.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Also said you’d make me beg.”

“I will. You just wait and see.”

Dean ignored the challenge in Sam’s expression…he’d been on the receiving end of this enough…he’d learned a few things from his brother and his kinky ways. Sam would try…but Dean was going to take his time…and Sam would enjoy every touch.

He popped the button of Sam’s jeans with two fingers, then brought both hands to his hips, rubbing slowly against the skin, inching the jeans down as he brought his lips back to Sam’s abs, kissing over muscles that may not have been as tight as they had been when they first met, but still rivaled those of most athletes.

Sam’s hips shifted, his ass lifted…he wanted Dean to get on with the undressing…but Dean paused, pushing against his hips, his tongue circling over Sam’s navel, then dipping in…holding down tightly as Sam reacted. Dean chuckled, then sucked and he could feel Sam harden under his elbow. Knew I could get a rise out of ya’.

“You think you’re funny?”

“You ever want me to get around to sucking that cock?” Dean asked with a raised eyebrow. Sam huffed and laid his head down on the pillow, pulling again on the ropes.

Dean chuckled, enjoying the reversal of roles. Sam had never conceded to being tied down…and Dean wanted to make sure he enjoyed it. These preliminary barbs were just Sam adjusting, dealing with the panic…with the fear and memory and need for dominance. Any time he gave up control they went through this and Dean just had to ride it out.

He swiped over and up with his tongue, from navel to nipple, his hands still firmly on Sam’s hips, holding him to the bed. Wait it out…or pull Sam out of his head. His tongue swirled over and around Sam’s nipple, then his lips closed over it as he slowly sucked it, sliding it in and back out, then running his tongue over the top. When he blew soft, cool air over the moist nub, Sam just about jumped out of his skin.

“Dean! Fuck!”

He didn’t respond, just moved to the other one and repeated the sequence. Sam squirmed and Dean knew he was biting his lip to keep from yelling again. Which of course meant Dean had to try to get him to do it. He lifted one leg and settled over Sam, straddling him, rubbing their groins together. Sam’s eyes were closed, lower lip firmly held between teeth, arms tight and pulling. It was maybe the hottest thing he’d seen in months.

His hands glided over Sam’s stomach and chest, already starting to glisten with sweat as he rocked their groins together. “I’m gonna make you yell, Sammy…scream my name….beg me…you’re so hot right now…”

He could see the challenge flair in Sam’s eyes. That was better…a struggle against what Dean wanted instead of against his own inner demons. Dean’s fingers sought out Sam’s nipples, rubbing over them gently before pinching them. Sam rocked up with his hips and Dean pulled himself up, out of reach. When he’d settled back to the bed, Dean leaned forward, pressing his bare body to Sam’s, lips hovering over Sam’s mouth.

“Gonna lick you all over.” Dean whispered, his tongue reaching out to taste the little cleft under Sam’s lip. His lips closed over Sam’s chin, sucking lightly, licking…then slowly moving…to Sam’s right side…scarred and marked and Dean knew that before him no one had touched Sam there…no one had seen him the way Dean did.

Open mouthed kisses along thick scar tissue that ran the length of his jaw on that side, following it down to where it joined another coming down from his cheek. Sam turned his head, offering up the ravaged line of his neck, the reminders of wounds that could have killed him.

It had taken a long time to convince Sam that he loved every inch of him, including all of the scars and the pain and memory that came with them…most of the time, Dean was fairly certain Sam just placated him. Now though, he knew which ones were still sensitive to touch…and he traced a path, tongue and lips and tiny touches of teeth, over a long line that reached behind his ear, down over the side of his neck and deep onto his chest.

Sam’s breathing changed, caught a little as Dean’s tongue flicked over the tender end of the line, but he caught it before it became a sound. Dean chased another scar, off Sam’s chest and to the side, over ribs and off toward his shoulder.

Like Sam’s navel, Dean paused over the puckered skin that marked the worst of the damage done to Sam when he was still a boy. He didn’t like it touched, and it still caused him pain…but sometimes, Dean could turn that pain… _Want to touch it_. 

Sam whimpered involuntarily, turning back toward Dean as his tongue dipped into the hole, tender, tiny touches. Sam’s head moved again, his eyes squeezing shut, his neck exposed. _Again_.

Dean repeated the motion and Sam’s hips rocked against him. Dean dragged his lips over the raised skin, humming lightly. He could feel the answering buzz as Sam reached for him with the part of himself Dean couldn’t tie down or hold on to. The sense of Sam filled him and he flushed with need. It brought him back to kissing Sam’s face, working down to those lips, working at making him let go with his teeth so Dean could get inside.

_Taste good_. Dean worked his way back down, over Sam’s chin and chest, moving his body lower, until he was kneeling between Sam’s legs, his hands splayed against his hips, thumbs stroking the bare skin under his jeans.

_Please._

“Gonna make you say it out loud, Sammy.” Dean said, lowering his face to nuzzle at Sam’s left side, inching down the jeans to expose his hip. There was a spot…just where leg and hip and side met…just inside the high point of the bone, that drove Sam utterly nuts. He kissed his way toward and Sam squirmed.

_Not fair_.

Dean’s mouth closed over the skin…just…there, his tongue sliding lightly over the patch of flesh that made Sam…do that, his hip flexing, his legs spreading wider all by themselves. He sucked and Sam’s body lifted from the bed. A glance up confirmed he once more had his lip between his teeth.

Dean smirked and moved to the other side, inching the jeans down just enough to expose the scarred hip, but keeping his cock caged in denim. Here Dean had to tread more carefully. Three claw marks adorned Sam’s right hip, marks made by a demon holding Sam down.

He brushed his lips lightly over the marks, then licked the clean skin between them. Sam stilled, all but his breathing. Dean took his time finding the little hollow where there was once bone, letting his tongue circle it slowly before dipping in.

Sam was really starting to sweat now, and the salty taste of Sam was one of Dean’s favorite things. He kissed and touched, moving to the skin just above the fly of his jeans…fire hot and heaving with Sam’s breath.

Dean let one hand rest there, kissing around his fingers, letting his thumb graze the pubic hair just beneath the waist band. Sam was already leaking, he could see the dampness of the denim. Not as damp as it would be though. 

Dean licked the hard length of Sam’s cock, or the denim caging it and Sam moaned, loudly, his eyes popping open as Dean smirked and went down again, obscene, open mouth against the pressure of his brother’s erection. 

“Dean…” It was half whine, half moan…and it only spurred him further, pressing his hands down between his brother’s legs to cup his balls through his pants.

“That’s it Sammy…” Dean encouraged.

“Please.”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Dean whispered, then went back to soaking Sam’s pants with his tongue.

“Please…touch me.”

“Am touching you.” Dean insisted.

“Dean.” His voice rose a little and Dean responded by letting more of his thumb slip into his jeans. He kept his fingers pointedly away from Sam’s cock, rubbing instead over the heated flesh and hair around it.

_Dean._ Sam echoed the word, mouth and mind only heartbeats apart and Dean could feel Sam reaching inside him for his own cock, hot and hard in his jeans. Dean pushed him back, pulling his hand from his skin and making Sam whimper. 

_Nice try…but you’re not tricking me into rushing this._

He got the distinct impression Sam was nearing the point where Dean wouldn’t be able to pull him back…so Dean sat up, hands on Sam’s hips again. “Let’s get these off.”

Sam was all too eager to help with that, lifting and bending his legs while Dean pulled his jeans off, tossing them aside. Sam’s cock was deep red and hard, begging as it curved up toward Sam’s stomach.

Dean wanted to lick it…to taste the pre-come gathering there at the top…instead, he turned to Sam’s feet. Neither one of them were particularly feet guys…but Dean had promised licking and kissing from head to toe…and he’d started at the head…so…Sam’s entire body groaned when Dean’s mouth pressed over his big toe. Tiny kisses against the instep and ankle, up the shin with his tongue.

Sam squirmed, pulled on his arms, bit his lip. Dean’s hands cupped the back of his knee, tenderly stroking the soft skin there while he kissed around and over to his thigh. He breathed hot air over the skin on the inner thigh, watching Sam’s cock ooze slowly. “Come on Sammy.”

_Dean…please…_

“Please?” He switched to the other leg, all the way down to the foot again. He licked the instep. “Please Sammy?”

Sam growled and shook his head. Dean’s lips closed over a tiny scar on his brother’s knee, sucking it lightly before moving to run his tongue up the inside of that thigh, then up the crease where his leg met groin.

Sam’s cock was streaming now…as Dean kissed up the hip…over his stomach, Sam’s cock butted up against his chest and chin and Dean paused to lick the tip lightly. “Dean…fuck…god…just…do it…”

“Do what?” Dean went back to kissing his way over Sam’s stomach, to his other hip. He nipped at the tender spot and Sam was falling apart. Dean’s head was filled with a steady stream of _pleasenowneedpleasefuckDean_ …while Sam’s voice cracked in half, bleeding out a stream of incoherent sounds that were part whimper, part moan, part curse.

Dean turned his attention to Sam’s balls, and his entire lower body lifted off the bed…One long lick up the underside and Sam was shooting come into the air. It took a long time for his body to loosen and slide back to the mattress, and Dean grinned, most satisfied as he backed off and walked away, into the bathroom for a washcloth.

He ran water in the sink and stripped out of his jeans, dropping them in the hamper so Sam wouldn’t see….because Dean would never admit to Sam that he’d creamed his jeans from just the sight and sounds and the feeling of Sam coming apart like that.

Sam was looking at him with dark eyes when he came back and started wiping up the come that had splattered across his thighs and stomach. “Um…Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“The ropes?”

Dean looked up. “What about them?”

Sam looked at him and pulled. “Funny.”

“Oh…you told me I had the whole weekend. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Dean.” 

“I’m no where near done with you.”

“Dean.” _Dean!_

Dean crawled up onto the bed and kissed him. “Relax Sammy…you’re gonna like what I have planned next. I’ve been thinking about this for three weeks.”

_Dean. Untie me._

“Get some rest Sammy. It’s gonna be a long night.”


End file.
